I don't want a record of my secret, except if it's written in your heart.

I don't want to know how I make you feel. I just want my presence felt.

I don't even want your words. Just show me what can't be said.

Better yet, come meet me in the forest. I have something just for you.

I want you to read my lines, absorb them all, and soon forget this ever happened.

And I want you to know this:

If you were in front of me, I'd dare to tell you all the things I've kept hidden.

But I'd tell you quietly. One hand-written note at a time.

We would sit on the earth surrounded by trees, facing one another but not really. I'm sure my head would be down as I prepared to give you what you'd never expect from a woman like me.

I'd let you know the rules: No talking. No touching. No keepsakes from my confession. Just reading and receiving. Just knowing and feeling.

With scraps of paper and a pen in hand, I'd begin this undercover adventure.

I'd write what was true, then give it to you, and watch you read my lines.

Then on to the next one, and then the next, until I purged all that I've been holding in. Until you knew the contents of my heart. Until my words painted a picture that would forever be etched into your soul.

And then I'd dispose of the evidence because its job had been well done.

I'd watch you sit with the awareness that every word was dedicated to you, and inspired by you, long before we even met.

You'd realize how much I feel, and why I am a fool of the highest order.

Well, the wisest fool there is, I suppose.

I know you're not the one and this will end and it will hurt but I still keep going.

Against all my rules and better judgment, you are the sweet and twisted mistake I'm about to make.

You are the radiant and troubled soul I'm not willing to ignore.

You are the dark and beautiful creature that doesn't belong, but I'm desperate to make you fit. Some way; somehow.

Yet all I can do is observe all the ways that you don't, and celebrate all the ways that you do.

I want you to know everything. My mountains of desire and my endless conflicting dreams.

And once you did know these things, I would leave my beloved forest, and you, and we'd never speak again.